


Driven

by tryslora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gamefic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-20
Updated: 2007-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the war didn't end, Neville is driven by his need to keep those he cares for safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driven

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and world of Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling; no infringement is intended and I'm making no money off of this.
> 
> This was written before Deathly Hallows was released, as part of an "alternate future" challenge in the game Firebird Ascending. In that game, Neville accidentally petrified Luna during the invasion of Hogwarts in HBP. This fic looks at what if Luna had died because of that mistake. Adding it to my archive here.

_Driven to the margin of error  
Driven to the edge of control  
Driven to the margin of terror  
Driven to the edge of a deep, dark hole_  
("Driven", Rush)

When Neville wakes, the room is cold and the only light is the familiar flickering of candles in the sconces on the walls. He tests his fingers and toes, wiggling both and almost fascinated that he can still feel them at all. He remembers the flash of the spell, remembers things crashing down around them. Remembers throwing up a shield, and in fear that that might not work, throwing his own body as a second protection.

Pain and darkness. Screaming. Then nothing, until he is here, in this room in HQ which has been his since Gran passed. It was simpler that way, since he spends all his time with the Order, working constantly on his spellwork and fighting. Ever since Hogwarts. He curls in on himself at that thought, memories wide open in his aching head. Luna lying there, petrified by his own wand. The green flash of light that took her life before he could react.

The door pushes open a crack, and he cranes a head that feels far too heavy to see who is there. Smiling hurts, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks. "Harry." There, whole and safe, thank the gods.

He's already lost someone he loved, not by his own hand but near enough not to matter. He can't stop fighting, can't stop trying. Just _can't stop_. He looks up, eyes wide and honest before Harry can say a word. "I'm still here for the Order, I'll have your back, and we'll win this war."

And he'll be damned if he lets another one die.


End file.
